Sudden Death on the Back Nine-Part IV

Troy dialed the local police precinct and asked for a detective. He gave his statement about what had happened to him and that he did indeed have a witness, the man who dug him up and saved his life. The detective assured Troy he would send a car right over. Troy told him he was headed over there himself just so he could confront them on the affair and what they had done. After assuring them he had no weapon and promising not to hurt anyone he told him he’d leave the front door open for him.

A few minutes later Troy stepped out of the shadows of his yard. He saw the unmarked car with its strobe light flashing followed by a patrol car heading in his direction. He retrieved his own hidden house key and silently slipped inside. His hands flexed into fists as he heard the sounds of lovemaking coming from his bedroom. He took several deep breaths and forced himself to calm down.

“What the hell?” Polly said, as the light switched on shining brightly on them as they were caught in the act. She quickly pulled the sheet over herself as Archie rolled over. “Troy?”

“It took me a while, but I figured it out. The next time you try to kill someone, make sure they are dead before you bury them. You’re such an idiot,” he added. “I can’t believe I ever loved you.”

The shock worn off, Archie jumped up quickly pulling on his trousers. “How did you get out of that grave? She even packed it down like I told her to.”

Troy closed his eyes a moment. He had heard the detective come up behind him and Archie had just admitted to planning the attempted murder in front of him. He smiled ironically and shook his head. “You should make sure you aren't being watched when you bury someone,” was all he said. He turned and walked out of the room. He shook hands with the detective and motioned him inside as Archie and Polly sat speechless. He stepped back inside. “Just tell me this, Polly, when were you going to report me missing?”

She stared at him blankly and never gave him an answer. She caught the robe Troy threw her.

“You probably don’t want to go out of here wearing nothing but cuffs.” 

Questioning the Electoral College

As the presidential election of 2012 is rolling around, I think it is time for a little lesson in voting. Did you know that even though one votes for a candidate, all the votes are tallied, and someone has received the most votes, they may not actually win the election? That's right. That vote can be overturned in a sense by the Electoral College.

The Electoral College has been around since our country's first election. The framers of the Constitution for some reason decided that election of a president by popular vote was not good enough and so created an electoral college to do it for us supposedly based on the popular vote. Seems like an un-necessary extra step to me. Members are based on various factors: number of senators in each state (2), and the number equal to how many representatives there are for each state which is based on population and will vary as the population does (Census figures), and three for Washington, D.C. These electors are usually voted in by popular vote. Supposedly, the electors vote according to who their individual states have popularly voted for the president, only actually they do not legally have to do that at all. It has happened four times in our history, as recently as 2000 when Al Gore, who won the popular vote, lost the electoral vote and therefore was not put into office. Regardless of how anyone feels about who won or lost the election that should not be legal. If someone won the popular vote that is who should win the election.

In this day and age when business people and politicians are often bought and paid for in various ways, otherwise there wouldn't be any lobbyists out there; it would be way too easy for someone to buy an electoral vote. I'm not saying that has happened, but it potentially could. Some states have sanctions for not voting with the popular vote- a fine and not being able to be an electorate again. Big deal! Anyone could pay the fine for them and if they truly are just trying to rig the election, then they don't care if they are not voting in the next one. At least Michigan negates the vote of the person not voting according to their state's wishes; others just give a slap on the wrist, so consequences vary wildly all the way to only being replaced.

When I checked the National Achieves (http://www.archives.gov/federal-register/electoral-college/electors.html) it listed how many representatives there were for each state and how many states had no laws or pledges regarding the electors voting with their state's popular vote - that means no penalties. There were 24 of them. That's 24 states' electorates potentially voting against the popular vote – almost half!

I don't see how we would have the right to point fingers at other countries' elections if we can't guarantee we would have an absolutely fair election. This is from a Constitution-believing, proud patriot: The Electoral College must go if we can't find a way to guarantee they will vote with the people they represent. I understand the College is supposed to make lesser populated states just as heard as the larger ones, but unless we want another play out of the 2000 presidential election, changes need to occur. Maybe jail time should be part of the deal for not voting as they are supposed to and it should be counted as election fraud. I am not a politician and I do not have all the answers, but together, as a country, the way the founding fathers did, we should figure out a solution.

On the Farm-Raising Sheep

I got talked into obtaining a few long-horned sheep about eighteen months ago by someone with sheep who was buying hay from us. I wouldn't have to have them shorn since they didn't have wool since they were hair sheep and the hair is more or less usless. They were supposed to go either for meat or the rams for their horns once they started having offspring. The entire 'herd' was a ram and five ewes. Oh my, what an undertaking that was. The ewes were raised on the bottle as their mothers had rejected them so they were very tame. Being tame, I named them and made pets out of them. That is always a bad idea, but somehow I always manage to do it regardless of the animal, be it a cow, a pig, or a sheep.

Raising sheep is an adventure, make no mistake. One weekend, since my husband was ill, my eldest son decided to come help mom get caught up on things that needed done around the farm. One such chore, was catching the sheep, which by this time had multiplied due to the ewes having had babies in February. We needed to tag the lambs. You talk about a rodeo. The adults were already tagged and I wondered why the previous owners had waited until they were loading them to do it. They seemed to handle so well when they got them for us and we had only some trouble getting them into the barn when they lambed- they follow a feed bucket pretty well. The lambs, however, run like the wild little critters they are. I had built a divider fence out of fence wire and, with my husband's help, finally lumber in order to separate the lambs from the ewes (they kept going through the wire). That's when I noticed the difference in the ewes and the rest of them.

The ram is also wild as we were told not to make friends with him or he could get where he wasn't afraid of us and charge. I took that to heart- he has some nasty looking horns and I have seen him charge my poor dog when I was trying to find his water bucket. After about an hour of trying to catch the lambs to tag them my son was swearing a blue streak and, as he is much too old for me to wash his mouth out with soap, I couldn't very well stop him. He looked at me and then I surprised the heck out of him. I was just as hot (it was nearly 100 degrees) and ticked off as he was at their speed and agility, and one even jumped straight up four feet over the fence back to mama. I told him to go ahead, just make sure he put in a few words for me since I didn't use them myself. He broke up laughing and we gave up the project least we both have a heat stroke.

That was about the time I started finding the little ones had gotten into a deadly plant I thought I had been pretty good about keeping out of their pen. My youngest son told me over the phone right where to find it and he was right. The little jumpers had gotten over a barricade and then knocked it over allowing access to all. It was around the silos.  I lost three of the little ones- all rams. Darn!

A few months after that I listed the whole lot for sale on Craig's List. At first no one wanted them, and then a couple people only wanted the female stock. I listed the two rams I had left, the dad and one of the lambs with a nice set of horns himself. .

By law, they have to be tagged before they can be sold and the tags are farm specific. Only ones born to the farm have to be tagged with that farm's tags so that they can be traced to their original farm. The people who bought the sheep were pretty good at catching them, although we did manage to get them led into a corral of sorts first and I just handed them the tags and asked if they had a tagging device. They can tag the little suckers.

I think I'll stick to cows and maybe a pig or two, but the pigs will be for me to eat, and some chickens (for eggs).

Sudden Death on the Back Nine -Part III

Troy watched his home from the inside a neighboring home where the inhabitants were on an extended vacation. They had asked him to keep an eye on the place and he could feed their exotic fish, so he knew where the key was hidden. He decided he would just stay there and not get a hotel room so if she filed a missing persons report they wouldn’t find him, at least not yet.

Gerald took Troy to the house and he had waited for Polly to leave before entering. He went into the house to his study where he opened the safe and withdrew several hundred dollars in cash and then raided the pantry and refrigerator. He laughed knowing she would be perplexed by the raid. He took several changes of his casual clothes in a duffel bag and went back across the street and waited.

As Troy watched clandestinely from behind the curtains of the window facing his home he saw Polly pull up and into the garage. She lugged heavy shopping bags into the house just as if nothing had happened. About an hour later Archie pulled into the drive and got out. He took her hand as if consoling her and patted her arm. Troy wished he had a directional microphone to hear them. They went into the house and a few minutes later the police showed up. He smiled to himself. “She must have found the missing items.” He wondered out loud if she would report everything missing or if she had even checked the safe. Would she tell them he was missing?

A half hour later the officers came outside still writing in their notebooks. One of them pointed to the house where he was and Troy ducked back just enough that he could still see what was going on without being seen himself. She was shaking her head and he thought it looked like she said the word ‘vacation’. Safe, he thought, at least for now. They walked door to door to the neighboring houses questioning the inhabitants and scribbling in their notebooks. At last they left and Troy breathed a sigh of relief. She had said ‘vacation.’

As darkness fell Troy wondered why Archie was still there. Around ten he left but he looked a bit disheveled. Troy narrowed his eyes as he recalled what Gerald had told him about the phone call Polly made after she buried him. Could it be that she was talking to Archie? Hmmm. Suspicion gnawed at him for hours. His friend Archie and Polly? No way; Archie didn’t even like Polly.

Troy watched the news and knew there was mention of a break-in at his house but no mention of his being missing or his belongings or the money; just some food, which they thought odd.  He snickered, either she didn’t notice or she wouldn’t report it. He started watching carefully when she left and when she came home. She was gone all night twice and he paced the floor. He knew if he took his neighbor’s vehicle, word would get around so he couldn’t follow her and he couldn’t take his own because if she came home and it was gone she would report it stolen.

Two days later Archie pulled into the drive. Several hours later he saw the lights go off in the house and Archie didn’t leave. Troy knew he had been right. Archie’s dislike of his wife was all for show. He sat down hard on the sofa and cried. It was bad enough what Polly had done, but now it looked as if his best friend was also involved and more than just with a murder plot. He thought for a while longer and then made a decision.

Where Were You September 11, 2001?

To borrow from an Alan Jackson song, where were you when the world stopped turning? Obviously September 11, 2001, the world did not stop turning- but it sure felt like it. I was in our dairy barn cleaning up after the morning milking. My youngest son had already gone inside and saw the report on the Today Show.  He ran to tell me a plane had hit one of the buildings of the World Trade Center. My reply after the 'Oh my God!' was, "Somebody's in trouble," the last word being dragged out. I asked if it was a small plane like the one that hit the Empire State Building so many years ago and of course he looked confused not knowing what I was talking about. (I only knew about it from historical reports-I am not old enough to have read about it real-time.) He just shook his head and said, "No, Mom; it was a jetliner." You could have knocked me over with a feather. As I was finished in the barn, we came inside to watch the updates together. Horrified, we watched as yet another plane hit the second tower and then the towers collapsed. Panic reigned supreme in the streets as people understood we were under attack even as they had no idea what had happened.  I told him one is an accident, two is on purpose. Then of course came the reports of the plane crashing in Pennsylvania and the one that hit the Pentagon. All air traffic was officially grounded. We just stared at the television, my arm around his shoulders. We knew we were at war. My husband having heard vague reports on the radio that we kept in the barn came in and asked if we'd heard the news.

As the days went on we learned, if we had not already known, what real heroes were. Those brave, selfless individuals who caused their own plane to crash rather than let the terrorists take it into the White House or some other government building, gave everything for their country. The rescuers who knowing full well they might not make it out, went into those burning towers to save those that could be and then retrieve those who couldn't and many of them too gave everything to their fellow man not just their country. There were poor, unsuspecting people conducting business, going about their day who were killed inside those infernos, many of which died trying to save their coworkers. We will never forget.

All these years later, we still remember vividly where we were. Of course many have been born who have never felt the devastation of seeing that awful, terrible site except on historic news reports around the anniversary, and many of those will go on to defend our country, once they are old enough, so that it doesn't happen again, or if it does, they will be there.

September 11 has been named Patriots Day in observance of those thousands who died that day.  Just as December 7, 1941, is remembered as Pearl Harbor Day in honor of those attacked in Hawaii while they slept is not meant to bring about hatred for the Japanese, Patriots Day is not meant to bring about hatred for those of Middle Eastern descent. There is enough hatred in the world. It is to remember the victims, the fallen heroes of that terrible day, and to remind us to keep ever mindful, ever vigilant and not let it happen again.

God bless America, the survivors, the families left behind wherever in the world you hale, and the heroes who defend us against those who would do us harm if given the chance again.

Sudden Death on the Back Nine-Part II

“Oh my God!” the overall clad groundskeeper whispered when he saw the red haired woman with the lantern walk further down the trail with a shovel in her hand. He followed her a little way watching her as she threw the shovel into the ravine and then make her way back to the walking trail that skirted the country club’s back nine of the golf course. She had only looked around once but he knew how to keep to the trees and stay out of sight. He’d done it for forty years as lovers thought they were alone and he didn’t want to disturb them, so he had just quietly slunk away and gave them their privacy. This was something new. He knew the light was very dim, nearly dark, but he could swear he saw her dragging a body and then bury it.

He made his way back to where he thought she had been and dropped to the ground to the soft, freshly turned soil. He began digging with his hands as the ravine had been too steep to go in after that shovel. He found the body of a man and fell backward as a hand twitched. “Jesus, he ain’t even dead!” He dug faster and pulled the man from the would-be tomb and felt for a pulse. It was faint but it was there. He held up his own flashlight and shined it on his face. He knew him. He recognized him from the club. He had always tipped him at Christmas for doing such a good job with the golf course- something the other members had never done. It was Troy Becker.

The kindly man shook him and then slapped at Troy’s face. He patted his pockets and discovered he had left his radio at his office. “Damn! This man needs help.” He did a cursory check to see if Troy had any broken bones and finding none he slung him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and worked his way carefully through the woods back to his office which was away from the other buildings of the country club but nearer to the golf course than going all the way back to club. He laid Troy on a ratty sofa and propped his feet up on the arm rest. Just as he was reaching for the telephone Troy stirred.

“What the hell?” Troy said coming awake. “Gerald?” he said, recognizing the groundskeeper.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Becker. He ran to his little bathroom provided for him to shower off the fertilizer he used on the course and came back with a plastic tumbler of water.

“Thank you,” Troy said, accepting the offered beverage as he sat up.

“You should stay down Mr. Becker. You’ve had quite a shock to your system. I was about to call an ambulance.”

“What for? What happened?”

“I saw some woman dragging you through the woods and then she buried you. I don’t think she realized you were still alive, or she didn’t care; I don’t know which. But, she didn’t appear to care much one way or the other. She tried to pack the dirt down over you with the shovel.”

Troy sat straighter and then grabbed his now throbbing head. “You have any aspirin?”

“Sure.” Gerald said and pulled a bottle out of his desk and handed it to Troy.

He nodded his thanks to Gerald as he took a few of them. “Can you describe her?” he asked.

“Sort of, it was getting to be pretty dark out there,” he said. “She was about five-seven, thin but muscular, and she had red hair cut short. That’s all I have, sorry.”

“That’s good enough. It was Mrs. Becker. I wondered why she was being so nice tonight. I should have known she was up to something.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Gerald asked.

“I don’t know, but you can bet your last dollar it isn’t going to be pretty.”

“Shouldn’t you call the police and get checked out?”

“Probably…certainly,” he corrected. “But not just yet; I need evidence. As you said, it was dark, but I bet you could identify her in court.”

“I probably could. You can’t go home; she’ll just try again.”

Troy thought for a minute. He felt his pockets for his wallet. “Well, at least she didn’t take my wallet and she can’t cut off the cards because it will look suspicious. Besides, by the time the bill comes out, she’ll already be caught.”

Sudden Death on the Back Nine-Part 1

Archie and Troy sat at the Nineteenth Hole knocking back few beers after a hot and long afternoon of golf.  The place was well lit for a bar, a luminescence brought on by all the directional lighting showcasing the club's golf memorabilia. 

Archie glugged down another swallow of the cold amber fluid from his mug and belched. "Oh, excuse me," he said, dragging out the word 'excuse' and smiled. "This was an awesome day."

"Only because you won," replied his partner.

"Oh, please," Archie stated, rolling his eyes. "You should have taken up volley ball."

"Volley ball?" Troy questioned.

"Yeah, you're a beach bum; you're either in the sand or in the water." He laughed raucously at his joke.

Troy hung his head waggling it side to side. "Well, you had an advantage with those magnifying glasses of yours. How thick are they anyway? Looks like two inches."

"More like a quarter-inch, thank you," Archie replied. "Maybe you need some. At least I can see."

Troy laughed. "I see just fine." He looked at his watch and let out an expletive. "I'm going to be late for dinner – again. Polly will be irate."

"That what you call it?" Archie asked. "Last week she threw a potted plant at me as I pulled out of your driveway. She almost nailed me too. You should take her golfing; she's got a hell of an arm."

"That's because she was pitcher for her college softball team. The first time she tossed me an apple it was nearly applesauce and it bruised my head where I saw how fast it was coming and ducked," Troy recounted.

"Could have been worse," Archie countered.

"I don't see how."

"Could have been an egg."

Troy let out a chuckle and clapped his friend on the back. "This one's on me," he said grinning. He tossed a twenty on the bar and nodded to the bartender.

Troy's wife sat at their dining table, arms crossed, scowling when he walked in the door. He washed his hands in the powder room off the kitchen and quickly sat at the table.

"Good game?" she asked sourly. "I hope so; dinner is cold."

Troy sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. Time got away from me."

"It always does when you're with Archie," she replied. "Eat your dinner before it's frozen instead of just cold."

Troy dutifully ate the meal his wife had spent so long preparing. It tasted different in an odd way he could only attribute to it's being cold, but wouldn't have asked her to, or done himself, microwave the meal to reheat it.

"Troy, can we go for a walk later?" Polly asked.

"Sure," he answered, trying not to let the apprehension show in his voice. This wasn't something they normally did; at least not for years.

Forty-five minutes later they were strolling along the walk path around the back nine holes at the country club. Only a few miles from home it had been a favorite place for them after Troy became financially stable enough for them to join. The air was cool, but not cold, and filled with the scent of the pine trees. Small solar lights illuminated the path just enough to see where one was walking without drawing too many light-attracted insects.

"This is nice," Troy said patting his wife's hand, which rested in the crook of his elbow. He smiled hoping this was the beginning of a fresh start for his troubled marriage. It had been two years since their once close relationship had grown cold. He'd never understood what happened.

Polly smiled back at Troy, a rare event, and leaned on his shoulder. "So, how have you been?"

"What?" The question took Troy by surprise. She hadn't asked him about his day even in so long he couldn't remember anymore.

"How have you been? It seems like forever since we've touched base."

"I know." He yawned suddenly. "Oh, pardon me. I don't know what's come over me. I'm not usually tired this early in the evening," he said.

"It's this relaxing walk. We should head back," she suggested. "Maybe I can wake you up a little," she added, giving him a small bump with her shoulder.

Troy smiled as they turned to go. Suddenly the lights went out and he crumpled to the ground.

Polly let him go rather than going down with him. "Well, that took long enough," she exclaimed. She grabbed his feet and dragged his limp body into the dense trees off the path, struggling along the way as his arms snagged the tree trunks. Finally, she found the shining battery-operated lantern that marked the hole her lover had dug earlier. She rolled him into it and refilled the grave with the pile of dirt next to it and tamped it down with the shovel he had also left for her. Then taking the lamp she found the ravine she'd been told about and gave the shovel a toss, watching as it went down. She made her way back to the path and replaced the border stones she had knocked ajar when she dragged troy's body into the woods.

Glancing around, she dowsed the lantern and ran back down the path to their car. No one was around so she climbed inside and drove home. She picked up her cell phone and hit speed dial. "It's done darling," she said. "A real hole in one."

To be continued...